Instructor Jarron held up his palms and slowly backed into his tent, one step at a time, like he was carefully dealing with a scary predator or trying not to scare a rare animal. A dangerous predator was more fitting for the situation, however.
After a few moments that felt unbearably long in the silent-as-death camp, Jarron left the tent again, this time wearing his usual instructor's jacket and clothes.
Jarron clapped his hands together with a smile on his face.
"Welcome and congratulations, class! I hope you didn't suffer too much, considering you're, what? A week past the deadline?"
"..." Some of the students glanced at each other or Anerias and Violina, but none of them said anything.
"Ahem." Jarron cleared his throat and took a closer look at his students. Their clothes were ripped, worn, ragged, and dirty with mud and blood. But they looked like they were fine, physically speaking. It was like looking at a group of savages.
"So, uh, I can't help but notice that Julius Hersko and Dukiel are not here. Did they, uh, die?" Jarron hesitantly asked. It would be the class' first deaths. It was only natural if the students weren't used to the feeling and wouldn't know how to handle it.
Jarron remembered how distraught he and his classmates had been when they first went through this trial and how supportive and caring the instructors had been while sharing the wisdom of survivors. It was an inevitable step on the path upward in this world.
Dying was rare, but even the safest profession had accidents or encounters with life-hostile people or situations. A summoner was, at its most basic form, a being of combat.
The students could either get used to their comrades dying now when they were students and the only ones affected were the deceased's families. Or they could freeze up in shock on the battlefield or during assignments where failure meant the death of tens, hundreds, thousands, or more.
It was a blood-freezingly cold decision by the principal to put this harsh method into practice. But it was necessary.
Jarron prepared to offer his shoulders for the students to cry on before they processed this fact.
"Ahem." Zach awkwardly cleared his throat under the weight of his classmates' gazes. "No, they're not dead. Due to some circumstances, they were just operating on their own, separate from the class."
"Oh…I see." Jarron sounded more disappointed than he should have when hearing that his students were most likely alive.
And, almost as if to confront Jarron for his disappointment, Dukiel and Julius burst out of the bushes and into the camp not far from Jarron.
Jarron jumped and turned around.
"Dukiel! Julius! Welcome to the camp!"
Dukiel looked at Jarron with his hands on his knees and his ribcage moving like bellows. He didn't bother with an answer.
Julius didn't even bother to look up as he lay on the ground, his chest moving just as quickly as Dukiel's. They had sprinted like madmen to escape a fierce monster that even the Sentinel struggled with.
Catching their breaths came before entertaining Jarron, who had a strange expression.
"Well, uh…" Jarron awkwardly scratched his arm as he turned to face the entire class at once.
"You've all been through a lot, I see. Still, you can listen since there are a couple of things I need to tell you.
"First of all, good job. Good job, every single one of you, for surviving this trial. It wasn't supposed to be easy. The harder it was for you, the better." Jarron made eye contact with each and every student as he spoke. Then, he moved on.
"Secondly, the deadline of two weeks was set without any expectations of you ever meeting it. It was to teach you that deadlines don't mean shit in the face of monsters. What's more important? Dying but arriving on time or not dying but arriving late? Of course, in this situation, you would have died without arriving at all…" Jarron trailed off, and his gaze grew distant.
Jarron faced his students again, deciding to get sidetracked for a moment.
"There will, however, come a time in each of your lives when that particular lesson means nothing. There will come a time when something more important than your lives comes for you. I…I can say a lot of things about that, actually. But all I'm going to say is that you should make choices you're comfortable living with." Jarron moved on with a nod.
"Thirdly, arriving this soon is pretty much a record, I'm sure, especially with these numbers. Once again, great work. But, in case you're wondering, that's also why the camp is a little unprepared and why you all caught me in my comfort wear. I'd be happy if you all forget at least that part of this field trip and remember everything else."
"Not gonna happen, Instructor Hearts." Zach winked at Jarron.
"Two weeks detention, Zacharia Evandiel." Jarron's friendly attitude as he asked his students for a favor disappeared like a ghost. Instead, a steely veteran took his place as he punished Zach for his insubordination.
"Wha—"
"You're being a poor pupil, Zacharia Evandiel. Two weeks, and you're cleaning the boards." Jarron added to Zach's punishment without so much as blinking.
Zach slumped his shoulders and gave up. When Jarron was like this, there was no discussing it. He would just have to find Jarron in private and negotiate a more favorable punishment.'
And by 'negotiate', Zach was planning to blackmail his instructor again. Jarron had freely handed over another piece for Zach to use, after all. He would be a fool not to take advantage of it.
"...Setting Zach's behavior aside and returning to the matter at hand…" Jarron returned to the main topic as he looked at all the students other than Zach.
"...It's still a week left until all the supplies are delivered. I must regrettably inform you all that, if you want to eat, you need to gather the food on your own."